


Cookies

by AZGirl



Category: NCIS
Genre: Cookies!, Gen, Secret Admirer?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZGirl/pseuds/AZGirl
Summary: Each member of the team receives an unexpected treat. Who is their ‘secret admirer’?
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another story that never made it to this site from fanfiction.net, where it was originally published in March 2011 during the 8th season. 
> 
> A little girl dragging a little red wagon behind her partially inspired this story…

**ooooooo**

“C is for Cookie that’s good enough for me.” ~~~~~ Cookie Monster, _Sesame Street_.

ooooooo

The ding of the elevator signaled not only the arrival at my floor, but also the arrival of yet another Monday. I hate Mondays. Murder, mayhem, and more paperwork weren’t things I looked forward to after a rare weekend off from work.

I step off the elevator with a forced smile on my face and head towards the bullpen. Ziva is already sitting at her desk having arrived before me which is not that unusual. What was unusual was the turquoise-colored box she was holding in her hands.

“What have you got there, Ziva?”

She shifts the box in her hands so I could see it better.

“Girl Scout Cookies! I love those!” I exclaim as I reach for her box.

Just like Lucy snatching the football from Charlie Brown, so Ziva does the same with the box of cookie goodness. She waggles a finger in front of my face as I struggle to keep my balance.

“I do not think it wise to let you hold my cookies. I would never see them again. I have never had these cookies before, are they—?”

“Never had them before? How’s it even possible to have never had a Girl Scout Cookie in all the time you’ve lived here in America?”

“I do not know, but it is true.”

“Maybe the Girl Scouts living near you got wind of your reputation as an ex-Mossad ninja assassin federal agent who could kill a person with a paper clip, and they were afraid to ring your doorbell?” I pause and smile before continuing. “It’s too bad that agents with daughters in the Girl Scouts aren’t allowed to peddle their kids’ cookies because they’re a potential threat source.”

“Yes, to your waist line, which does not need any more threats. It surrendered years ago.”

I smile broadly and laugh, but inside I’m a little hurt. Why does she have to always go for the jugular with her remarks? I know I started it with the Mossad-paperclip comment, so maybe it was justified in her mind.

Yet, my comment wasn’t anything we hadn’t talked or joked about before. I mentally sigh. There’s no point in dwelling on what she said – it won’t change anything.

I briefly wonder how long it will be before Tim gets his first cutting remark in today before I say, “Very funny, Zi-vah. What kind of cookies did you buy for your first box?”

“I did not buy these, and they are not my first box. I only meant that I had not tried this”—she turns the box so I can see the name, Dulce de Leche—“particular flavor before. I found the box on my desk this morning.”

“Ooooh. A gift from a secret admirer? I wonder—?”

“If it was a secret admirer, then whoever my admirer is must also admire you and Tim as there is a box of cookies on each of your desks.”

“Really!” I say surprised as I turn towards my desk to find a purple box of goodness sitting next to one of my monitors. _Tagalongs? Our ‘admirer’ must know me pretty well. These are my favorites._

Curious, I set my box down and go over to McGee’s desk to see what flavor our admirer had left for him. I’m just about to put my hand on the orange box when Tim says from out of nowhere, “Paws off my cookies, DiNozzo,” he says snatching the box from his desk. The way he’s holding it allows me to see the flavor. “I know exactly how many are left!”

 _Hmm… Another perfect choice by our mysterious benefactor_.

“Relax, McDo-Si-Do, I just wanted to see what kind you ended up with. I wasn’t going to take any of your precious Nutter Butter-like cookies.”

McGee looks like he doesn’t quite believe me, which isn’t all that unusual, but I can tell when he decides to let it mostly go. “Just ask if you want one. OK, Tony?”

“Of course, McCookie. Where have you been?”

“In Abby’s lab. She got a box of cookies too. Thin Mints. Her favorite. She’s already setting up booby traps around the refrigerator in order to keep her cookies, and I quote, ‘safe from intruders’.”

“Abs keeps hers in the refrigerator?” I ask, curious.

“Yeah, she says they’re better chilled. Did you know that both Palmer and Ducky each had their own boxes waiting for them this morning as well?”

“Let me guess, Ducky’s were the Shortbread cookies.”

He nods saying, “Good guess.”

“What kind did Palmer receive?” Ziva asks.

“The Samoas. They’re also called Caramel Delites.”

“So… The only member of the team to not get a box was Gibbs?” I ask.

“I was here first after Gibbs this morning. I did not see a box of cookies on his desk.”

“He could have already put them away somewhere safe,” McGee reasons with a pointed look towards me.

“Or, he could be our ‘secret admirer’,” Ziva interjects.

We all look at each other and then shake our heads in the negative – the looks on our faces probably saying just how ridiculous a thought that was.

McGee says, “No way…. Gibbs buying Girls Scout Cookies? For us? Gibbs is never that nice to us!”

“Well if he’s got a box stashed, then we’ll know it’s not him,” I say giving McGee a gentle shove in the direction of Gibbs’ desk.

“Yes, McGee,” Ziva chimes in, “I think you should check—.”

McGee takes a step backward as he refuses, saying, “Not going to happen. Besides, the second I even think about looking in Gibbs’ desk is when he’ll—”

“When I’ll what, McGee?” Gibbs asks from behind us. As he steps around us and walks towards the elevator, he continues, “Don’t you all have something better to do… like grabbing your gear? Dead Marine found by the Vietnam War Memorial.”

We scramble to get our gear and catch up to the Boss.

The case was quickly wrapped up for a change because the Marine had died of natural causes according to Ducky’s autopsy and Abby’s awesome lab work. I briefly wished all our cases were that easy to close.

The general consensus was that Gibbs was _not_ our ‘secret admirer’. The team also decided that he didn’t get a box of cookies because no one would ever dare to presume what kind he would prefer or that he’d actually eat them. Besides, we all took turns on and off during the day to check for crumbs and wrappers and there never were any.

Besides, in all the times I’d been to Gibbs’ house, I’d never seen one cookie, let alone any Girl Scout Cookies. Gibbs would never spend his money like that to be nice to us, would he?

The logical conclusion was that it wasn’t Gibbs, but my gut was telling me something completely different. When I’d gone down with Gibbs to Abby’s lab, she had outright accused the Boss of being our cookie benefactor. He had just looked at her with an expression that basically said he’d had no idea what she was talking about. She had taken the look to mean that Gibbs hadn’t bought the cookies and so had I, until I saw it.

Abby turned to report on the samples Ducky had given her, and for one fleeting moment, I thought I saw Gibbs stifle a smile.

At the time, I thought the action was in response to Abby’s enthusiasm over the results of her tests, but now I’m not so sure. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I know who the culprit is. Each of us got the cookies best suited to our tastes, and in some cases, our favorites. It was as if the giver knew each of us very well.

There was only one person I knew who would be able to do that.

ooooooo

Ziva and McGee had already left for the day, and it’s finally quiet enough for me to complete my report on the day’s case. Once I’m finished, I figure I deserve a reward as it prints out. I get my box of cookies out of my desk drawer and open them. The combined aroma of chocolate and peanut butter fills the immediate area.

I reach in to take one out of the tray, when I get the distinct feeling I should offer one to Gibbs. I walk over and extend the tray of cookies towards him. He looks up at me with a wary expression, but takes a cookie anyway.

As I take a cookie for myself, he says, “Thanks,” and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. I smile at his expression of enjoyment as he chews. An image suddenly comes to mind and I find myself describing it out loud.

“I always love this time of year… Seeing little girls dragging their little red wagons around filled to capacity with delicious, hard-to-resist cookies… Their parents following patiently behind them, guarding their sixes.”

I extend the tray again and Gibbs takes another cookie – again shoving it whole in his mouth.

“She looked like Kelly, didn’t she?”

Gibbs stops chewing and forcibly swallows. He looks at me at first with anger, but then his eyes soften and grow distant in remembrance of a happier time.

I want to head slap myself for what I’d said, but I figure Gibbs will be more than happy to do it for me. “Sorry Boss, I didn’t mean to—”

He glares at me, and then gestures towards the cookies. He takes another one from the tray I hold out once more to him. Before he devours it, he confirms my suspicions.

“Same hair and eye color. She was even wearing the same colors as the last time I ever saw my daughter alive.” My heart clenches as he looks down at the cookie in his hands before snorting a laugh. “I couldn’t help myself.”

It’s my turn to chuckle and I boldly say, “I bet that little girl never thought you’d practically buy her out!”

Gibbs smiles slightly and pops the cookie he’d been holding into his mouth.

Feeling emboldened, I ask, “You didn’t get any for yourself?”

He leans over and reaches into a drawer I’ve rarely seen him go into. The next thing I know a purple blur comes sailing towards me. I manage to catch it without dropping the tray of cookies in my other hand.

Tagalongs.

That sneaky…

I smile broadly and hold the box up in front of Gibbs. “Care to share?” I inquire and laugh.

Gibbs stands, lightly smacks the back of my head, and snatches the box from my hands.

“You bring the beer. I’ve got a steak in my refrigerator. … We’ll have cookies for dessert.”

ooooooo

_The end._

**ooooooo**

**Author's Note:**

> The descriptions and cookie names are as they were when I wrote this story in 2011. 
> 
> Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for proofing. Any remaining mistakes are my fault. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> *Please do not repost or use this or any of my other works on another site or app without my knowledge or consent. FanFiction and Archive of Our Own are the only two sites (as AZGirl on both) where my fiction should be posted. Thank you!


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